


What's Getting Laid?

by tonystarkssnipples



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Kidfic, M/M, a wee bit o smut, james and natasha babysit peter, steve is being a butthead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 07:39:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2804711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonystarkssnipples/pseuds/tonystarkssnipples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We’re superheroes, Tony. Danger is part of that job. You know more than most.” Steve snapped, twisting away.<br/>“Yeah, it is, but that doesn’t mean you have to go looking for it!”<br/>“I was saving lives!”<br/>“You were risking yours!”<br/>“I know my limits!”<br/>--<br/>Or the one where Peter almost walks in on his dads having angry-sex resulting in Bucky and Natasha having to babysit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Getting Laid?

**Author's Note:**

> My gift fic for the Avengers Secret Santa (ASS).
> 
> A gift for CptWinterWidow.
> 
> I had a lot more planned but I ran out of time. I hope you'll enjoy it anyway.

“What the hell was that?” Tony shouted, storming into their bedroom.

Steve’s gaze remained trained out the window. “I saved them, didn’t I?” he snapped.

“Yes, you did, but—”

“But _what_ , Tony?”

“ _But_ it’s not just you anymore, okay? It’s me and Peter, too. You’re a husband and a father now. And I understand that being Captain America is as important to you as being Iron Man is to me, but you have to tone it down, sweetheart. There were other ways to save those two women without you running into a burning building and jumping out a three story window _._ ”

“I repeat: I saved them, didn’t I?”

Tony rubbed at his temples. “And I repeat: husband, father.” Tony slowly got closer to Steve, wrapping his arms around his middle. “I love you, Steve.” Tony placed a kiss to the center of the star on Steve’s chest. “I need you to stay safe.”

“We’re superheroes, Tony. Danger is part of that job. You know more than most.” Steve snapped, twisting away.

“Yeah, it is, but that doesn’t mean you have to go looking for it!”

“I was saving lives!”

“You were risking yours!”

“I know my limits!”

“Do you? Is that why you were always getting beat up Back-In-The-Day?”

“Well, I used to shit my pants when I was a baby but I don’t do that anymore, either.”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Steve?”

“What’s wrong with _me?_ You’re the one who comes in here and starts throwing around accusations!”

“Steve,” Tony whispered, reaching up and cupping his husband’s cheek. “What’s bothering you?” He ran his thumb across Steve’s cheek. It was obvious that Steve wanted to lean into Tony’s touch, but instead, he surged forward and crashed their lips together.

“I’m gonna fuck you into the next century,” Steve hissed, nipping at Tony’s lip. Not that Tony didn’t love a good dicking, but it shouldn’t be like this. He did, however, find it upsettingly easy to lose himself in Steve.

On the way to the bed, Steve peeled Tony’s clothing off, but stayed completely in uniform. “You like getting fucked by Captain America?” he growled, unzipping just enough to get his cock out. Blindy swatting at the bedside table, his hand came in contact with their bottle of lube.

“Not that I’m not turned on or anything, but can I ask why you’re doing this?” Tony asked as Steve pushed the first finger in without any warning.

“Almost died. Gotta fuck the man I love.” With that, Steve stuck the second finger in. Tony bucked off the bed, partially from the pain of being stretched so quickly and without warning, but mostly from the pleasure. Dominant Steve, possessive Steve, rough Steve—all his favorites, and he didn’t get to see them often because Steve was always scared of hurting him.

“Ready?” Steve asked after a few minutes. Tony blinked a few times, not expecting Steve to ask, before nodding ‘yes’.

Steve slicked his cock, lined up, and pushed into Tony. Steve didn’t waste a moment letting Tony adjust, instead began slamming himself into him. “Feel so good, baby,” Steve grunted.

“Daddy, Papa?” a small voice came from outside their door

“Not now, Peter!” Steve shouted, not even pausing for a second.

“ _Steve_ ,” Tony hissed, trying to get out from under Steve.

“Mr. Steve?”

“Fucking hell, Steve, you made him cry.” Peter only called them Mr. Steve and Mr. Tony when he was scared.

Steve groaned and pulled out of Tony. It took him a few moments to shove his boner back into the already-too-tight suit, but by the time he was done, Tony was also fully dressed and halfway to the door.

On the other side was their new five year old son. Two weeks after their wedding (a whopping six months ago), Steve and Tony rescued Peter from a hostage situation. The boy had been living with his aunt and uncle, who were both killed in the ordeal. Peter sort of imprinted on Steve and Tony (and they adored him) and it was a matter of minutes before they decided that they wanted to adopt him.

Peter Parker Stark-Rogers was legally theirs as of three and a half weeks ago.

“Hey buddy,” Tony said, getting down to Peter’s level.

“Does Mr. Steve hate me?” Peter asked, lip wobbling.

“No, baby. I don’t hate you at all,” Steve soothed, coming to kneel beside Tony. “I love you with all of my heart.”

“Den why did ya yell at me?” He was swatting at the fallen tears with the back of his hand.

“I didn’t mean to,” Steve explained. “Your daddy and I were in the middle of something and weren’t expecting to be interrupted.”

“Oh.” Peter nodded, seeming to accept that answer. “Sorry for in’eruptin’.”

“Not a problem at all,” Tony assured, patting the little boy’s head. “So, you up for some ice cream? I hear they have sixty-four flavors of soft serve at the shop down the street.”

“Sixty four flavors?” Peter gasped. “Can I try ‘em all?”

“Not today, Peter Pan. But we can go back another time.”

“Okay,” Peter grumbled.

“I think I’m going to stay back,” Steve mumbled when he and Tony stood up.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Peter, go put on your shoes while I talk to Papa for a minute, okay?”

“Sure daddy!” Peter exclaimed, running off in search of some shoes.

“Honey, what’s gotten into you?” Tony asked, turning to face Steve wholly.

“I’m fine, baby,” Steve insisted. “I just have some things to take care of. Beat off in the shower is number one.”

“If you wait, I’m more than willing to help you out when I get back,” Tony purred in Steve’s ear, nipping gently at the skin directly behind it.

“It’s gonna take you a while to get to the store and back,” Steve whimpered as Tony palmed at his crotch.

“Maybe.”

“A-and you’ll still have Peter with you.”

“Mm, I’m sure the soviet sweethearts would be willing to watch him for awhile.”

“Tony, if you don’t stop right now I’m going to have to bribe the dry cleaner not to share the information about the stains in the uniform. Again.”

Tony gave a wicked grin, continuing to rub Steve through the rough fabric. “I’ll start with my mouth,” Tony breathed. “Everywhere. Kiss, lick, suck. Whatever you want from me. Then I’ll let you fuck the daylights out of me. Then, when I allow you to come, I’ll have you come down my throat.”

Steve let out a choked noise as he came in his pants. “You’re evil.”

“And I’ll be back in an hour, big guy. Just enough time to make it to the dry cleaner and back.”

“Asshole,” Steve said with a fond shake of his head.

“Heard that!”

“Love you!”

—

Steve didn’t make it to the dry cleaner. The view from their penthouse was much more interesting anyway. There were times when he’d sit and stare at it for hours, not realizing any time had gone by. The skyline was… the New York skyline. In the forties he’d never really been high up enough to appreciate it. Sometimes he was tempted to look at photographs of what it looked like back in his day, but that would only make him feel worse.

Then he’d have to remind himself that, no, that was not his day. _This_ was his day, with a husband and a son and his best friend back from hell and a whole crew of other people that were dubbed “freaks”. He loved his life, he really did, but sometimes—

“Papa!” Peter exclaimed, running into the living room and leaping onto the couch next to Steve. “Guess what flavor I got? Guess!”

“Uh… vanilla?” Steve offered.

“No, silly. You can get banilla _anywhere_ ,” Peter explained as if this was the simplest of truths. In his five year old head, it probably was. “No, I got blueberry!”

“That’s your favorite,” Steve said, pulling his boy close.

“Yup! Guess what flavor Daddy got!”

“Now, I know the answer to this one. Even if it’s available everywhere, Daddy for sure got vanilla.”

It was then that Tony entered. “Well, you’re partially right.”

“He got swirl!” Peter exclaimed. “It was so cool, Papa. You shoulda seed it. TWO flavors came out at da same time. But it wadn’t choc’late ’n’ banilla, it was BLACK RASPBERRY ’n’ banilla. It was _so cool_ Papa!”

“That sounds really cool,” Steve said. It was wonderful seeing his son so excited over soft serve ice cream. Steve wished he could experience that wonder, especially with everything new that he was exposed to over the past three years, but all he felt was overwhelmed. Sure, he was able to use the technology and Tony and the rest of the team helped but it was still… more pressure to catch up than wonderment.

“Don’t think too hard or steam’s gonna start coming out your ears,” Tony joked. “So, after I sent the tyke up I went down to Casa de Romantica and it just so happens that our favorite Russians are able to watch over our little Peter for a bit.”

Steve smirked. “I’m assuming you told them why, am I right?”

“You are, in fact, correct in that statement.”

“Wacha guys gonna do?” Peter asked, bouncing in his seat.

“Careful there, Mr. Sugar High. Remember how we told you that we were in the middle of something before?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, we’re gonna go finish it up.”

“Actually, we’re going to start over,” Steve offered, standing and linking hands with Tony, winding their fingers together.

“How come Uncle Bucky and Aunt Tasha get to know and I don’t?” Peter grumbled.

“It’s grown up stuff, sweetheart. Don’t worry, you’ll be having so much fun you won’t even know we’re gone,” Tony assured. At that moment, WinterWidow showed up. Bucky hated when Tony came up with that. Tony had countless nicknames for everyone in his life. Bucky and Natasha were affectionately called WinterWidow, BuckyNat, and Soviet Sweethearts. The final was Steve’s personal favorite.

“Hey, Buck.” Steve opened his arms for a hug, which Bucky eagerly returned. “Thanks.”

“After all that time I spent trying to get you laid back in the day, it’s my pleasure.”

“What’s getting laid?” Peter asked.

“Thank you, James,” Tony deadpanned. “I really appreciate the conversation you have just inspired.”

“Daddyyyyyyy,” Peter whined, pulling on his dad’s arm. “What’s getting laaaaaaaid?”

“How about we talk about it later? Right now Bucky and Tasha are here! Don’t you want to play with them instead?”

“Sure,” Peter grumbled and slumped away. As soon as he thought his parents weren’t looking, however, he ran gleefully up to Natasha and started begging for her to pick him up.

“Well, we’re off,” Steve grinned, picking Tony up in a bridal carry.

“Go be gross somewhere else,” Bucky muttered.

“Yeah, go be gross somewhere else!” Peter parroted.

Steve and Tony were already out the door.

“Aunt Tasha, what’s getting laid?” Peter asked as soon as he heard the telltale sound of a closing door.

“That’s a question for your dads, sweetheart,” Natasha answered.

“But you were right dere! Papa wouldn’t tell me!”

“Did you ever figure that that means they don’t want you to know?” Bucky asked, plopping down on the couch and making himself comfortable, feet on the coffee table and all.

“But dey tell me everyfing! C’mon Uncle Bucky, you’re the cool one.”

“C’mon Nat, let me tell the kid. He’s gonna fi—”

“No.”

“But he called me co—”

“No, Barnes.”

“Buckyyyyyyyy,” Peter whined.

“Your parents told you that you do not need to know,” Natasha explained. “In the future, you will find out. But for now, how about we make popcorn and watch _Frozen_?”

“ _Frozen_ is overrated,” Peter explained. “The soundtrack is mediocre and the plot line is lacking.”

“Let me guess: you watched it with your dad,” Bucky deadpanned.

“No. Daddy liked it. Papa said those stuffs. I would much rather watch _Tangled._ Papa says that Flynn Rider reminds him of Daddy and Daddy says Punzle reminds him of Papa. They—”

“Watched it on their first date. We know,” Bucky droned. “I’m not watching it again. The only thing I can think of when I watch that movie is the time I heard Steve and Tony role-playing—”

“James!” Natasha shouted.

“What’s that?” Peter asked.

“We are _never_ having children,” Natasha hissed before taking a whining Peter into the next room to watch the movie.

—

Sweaty and sated, Steve and Tony laid together, unwilling to let go.

“Mmm,” Steve hummed. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Tony murmured, placing a kiss to Steve’s disheveled hair. “Sorry about getting on your ass earlier.”

“I deserved it, hon. Don’t worry. You’re right. I have a husband and a kid to look after.”

“I know you deserved it, I just went about it the wrong way.”

Nuzzling his face into Tony’s neck, Steve huffed out a laugh. “You amaze me.”

“How so?”

“You’re the biggest asshole on the planet yet somehow I love you.”

“Jee wiz! That’s some really nice pillow talk!”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

Tony gave him a tired smile. “I do.” A chaste peck on the lips later, Tony was hiding under the blankets. “Do we really have to get up?” he mumbled. “Can’t we just stay in bed for the rest of the day and have sex? We deserve it after the battle or whatever.”

“JARVIS?” Steve asked. “What are Peter, Natasha, and Bucky up to?”

“They are watching the Disney film _Wreck-It-Ralph._ It appears that James has put a pillow in his shirt and Master Peter is continuously punching it, exclaiming ‘I’m gonna wreck it’.”

“Thanks, J,” Tony mumbled and stretched, throwing back the covers and accepting his fate.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked after Tony.

“Do calm down our son?”

“Please. It seems like the Soviet Sweethearts have it under control for right now. Why don’t you come back to bed with me and snuggle and maybe I’ll blow you if you’re good.”

“Aw, you really do love me,” Tony snarked, getting in bed anyway.


End file.
